I'm not quite sure how to explain what I think about this movie except that it felt a bit "cold" (?) for an Almodóvar film. I don't think it has the usual passion, energy that his films normally show. I still liked it though.
It´s not a great movie and it´s not a great story. However there are some moments captured beautifully, like when Lena is by the door, giving her own voice to the mute Lena on the screen, saying to Ernesto she is leaving him. There´s always something in Almodovar´s movies that draws us to them. Still, not a particularly good and inventive story.
I'm delighted with the continuous perfection of the art of Almodóvar. He managed to thrill me, once again, with intensity. I did not like much of "Volver." But really, he resumed his career with mastery. A beautiful masterpiece! Congratulations, Almodóvar!
Aesthetically speaking, beautiful. Wonderfully framed mid-shots, an ominous score, well-devised close-ups at exactly the right moment, vibrant colors that jump at you from the screen; characters with one marked emotional feature making them even more intriguing... However, after an hour, the film loses tempo and the climax seems watered-down in relation to the rest of the film. That said, I love Almodovar.
almodovar's masterpiece, possibly even better than the iconic 'all about my mother'. the style of his has become beautiful and snappy. characters are real and unpredictable, with cruz here playing a character who is very unlikeable. the story of films, how it can be manipulated to serve one aim or the other is brilliant, as is the comment on cinema's voyeuristic nature. also just damn funny and tragic all at once.
A curious study of cinematic obsession, that works largely because of Penelope Cruz's unique appeal... when she's on screen. There are some great images, as there often are in Almodovar's work, like that of a blind man caressing a pixelated image on a screen, but it lacks an emotional resonance because we don't get very attached to the characters.
I understand the criticism on Broken Embraces, but I just can't see this film and dislike it. There are many precious scenes all over it. Mellow? Yes. The tendency to solve everything in the last minutes? Yes. Auto-referente? Cliché? Yes, yes, sure. But, still, this is a veiculo for a director to photograph his muse in all of her melodramatic and gorgeous existance. Its a love letter.
If Someday I arrange a list of the most inapt film directors with a tasteless narrative and cinematic structure, Almodovar will be engaged for the top of this list.
How long should we take these boring pretentious commercial products as artistic works?